From time to time I think, "Gee, I should really write something in the ol' blog." But, I have to be honest with you, I'm not really feeling that inspired these days.
I mean, sure, I could rail against "President Tremendous" in long, profanity-laced screeds. But what good would that do? The guy's a crook, and it's not going to be long before Mueller pulls his card anyway. Then we have "President Dad" who, literally, calls his wife "Mother," in the creepiest move ever; "Hey, Mother, let's go get handsy on the back porch and see what it leads to?" Yikes, no thanks.
I could rant against the Prime Minister, who looks like a million bucks but shat the bed on electoral system reform, is a little too eager to build pipelines for my tastes, and is overseeing an inquiry into missing and murdered Indigenous women and girls which isn't exactly going anywhere these days.
I can't even resurrect the old "my love life is non-existent" stalwart, as my love life is, oddly enough, quite existent. She's a great gal, and I'm still not entirely sure why she puts up with me.
The Detroit Tigers? Gonna be a lost couple of seasons coming up.
Music these days? Please.
Traffic on my street? Bad as ever, with construction rampant.
My apartment's temperature? If it's between -5 and +8, it's chilly as hell and I have to put on a heater. Above or below that, we're doing alright.
Eyeglass prescription? My right eye just got a little worse, down to -1.25 from -1.00.
Forty? Rolled right by.
Maybe I'll come back to this. (I have before.) Maybe I won't. I'm not sure. But that's the way this ol' world here spins.